


I Have a Fiancé

by lemnerd



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Drunk Stiles, Engagement, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, stiles isn’t good at alcohol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 17:05:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14241885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemnerd/pseuds/lemnerd
Summary: “I can’t wait to marry you.” the man says.“Okay, but I already have a fiancé. His name is Derek.” Stiles hears himself saying.Wherein Stiles is extremely drunk and makes out with his fiancé, without knowing that his fiancé is his fiancé. It’s all very confusing.





	I Have a Fiancé

The pack had come over to the loft to celebrate something. Stiles cant really remember. An engagement, or something? Anyway, his friend Scott made the terrible mistake of bringing Stiles’ favorite alcoholic beverage to the celebration. And now, after everyone has left, Stiles is sitting on the couch, tweeting on his phone with one hand and holding a nearly empty bottle in the other.

Stiles is down to his fifth glass of Schnapps before someone snags it away from him.

Stiles fully prepares himself, despite his drunken haze, to turn and snap at the person who took away his beverage. He just has to revise the sentence he’s going to say in his head. It takes a while.

He turns his head. “Hey! Y—“

The most beautiful man he’s ever seen sits right next to him, pale green eyes and a beard he wants to make out with. He smells like cologne and leather and paradise. And he’s holding Stiles’ cup.

“Give... uh.” Why is talking so hard?

“How many of these have you had?” the man asks, a thick eyebrow raised.

Way too many if he’s starting to hallucinate of gorgeous men with pink lips.

Both the man’s eyebrows raise and a smile creeps onto his face. “I’m pretty sure you’re not hallucinating.”

It takes a minute, but Stiles realizes he must have said that out loud and groans. So the times he wants to say something, he cant get things out but the times he wants to keep quiet he starts blabbering?

The man gives him a kiss on his forehead, and Stiles freezes. “Come on, let’s get you some water.”

“Y’just kissed me!” Stiles yells.

The man winces at the volume. “Yeah, I did.”

Stiles’ eyes widen. “You like me!”

The man scowls, crossing his arms over his henley-clad chest. “Well, it would be a little awkward if I didn’t.”

Stiles doesn’t really understand what that means, so he continues. “You can’t kiss me! I have a fiancé!”

“Oh my God, this is gold. You are such a lightweight.” The man looks like he’s trying hard not to laugh. “Okay. Sorry. I’ll get you some water now.”

Stiles puts his head in his hands. He just let a stranger kiss him when he has a fiancé. God. Stiles runs his hands over his face, swallowing. Does this count as cheating?

Oh my God.

This totally counts as cheating.

He’s at a random guy’s house, drinking and letting him kiss him. He’s such a bad person. When his fiancé finds out, he’s going to be devastated. The engagement is going to be called off and his fiancé will be heartbroken and Stiles will be alone for life.

So, naturally, Stiles starts crying. He tweets something off of his phone and the beautiful man is at his side in seconds, a cup in one hand.

“Hey, hey. Stiles. You’re okay.” the man says, something familiar and soothing in his tone, like he’s known Stiles for years. The man puts his hands on Stiles’ thighs and Stiles hates that he wants the man’s hands somewhere else. It makes him cry harder.

“I shouldn’t...” hiccup. “We shouldn’t be— doing this. I’m engaged. I don’even know you.”

“Okay,” the man says, a soft look on his face, “you really did have too much to drink.”

The man gives him a soft, quick kiss on the mouth. His lips are so perfect. Stiles starts to wonder if maybe he does know this man. His eyes are so lovely. And there’s so much fondness on his face. He’s so familiar. Stiles thinks he’s fallen in love with the man before.

And then Stiles leans in. Slowly. Puts his hands on the man’s shoulders. Then they’re actually kissing and it feels so familiar and different and Stiles just stops functioning when he feels that beard rub against his cheek. The man’s lips are so soft and plush and Stiles’ heart giggles and there are butterflies in his stomach. Stiles’ toes curl when the man starts sucking on his neck.

“Oh my God.” he moans.

The lips are back on his and Stiles can’t resist licking his way back into the hot, wet, beautiful mouth. He feels the man’s familiarly crooked teeth and soft, pliant tongue. It’s like he’s saying take the lead, do what you want to me, I’m all yours.

“I can’t wait to marry you.” the man says.

“Okay, but I already have a fiancé. His name is Derek.” Stiles hears himself saying.

He feels the man smile secretly against his mouth.

 

***

Stiles wakes up to an empty bed and what can only be described as the worst headache he has ever felt. Blinking his eyes upwards, he sees some Advil and a glass of water on the nightstand and consumes them like his life depends on it. He feels like it does, he’s that hungover.

After a few more minutes of mentally coaxing himself out of bed, he’s up. His legs don’t feel stable at all. He takes a moment to assess where he is. Derek’s bedroom. He grins a little. Maybe they had a little sex after the engagement party.

Except, Stiles feels for his hole and it’s not sore. Maybe they didn’t have sex. Maybe they just slept together. Stiles heads for Derek’s ensuite bathroom, taking off his shirt. When he takes off his pants and boxers, he notices the dried come in them. He blushes and quickly heads for the shower.

The problem is, he can’t remember anything that happened last night. At all. Clearly, as his boxers showed, he had a good time. But he really has no idea what happened. He’ll just ask Derek when he gets downstairs. He opts for a quick, brisk shower, wanting to hurry to get answers.

After showering, he looks in the mirror. Notices that his neck is decorated with hickies. Then everything comes back to him in horror.

There was a guy. One with beautiful green eyes. One who took away his drink and flirted with him and kissed him and made out with him and let Stiles grind on him. Stiles can feel the tears sting his eyes. He cheated on Derek.

He cheated on the man he loves. The man who proposed to him. The man he’d die for.

Gasping for air, he washes his face several times. He grabs the toothbrush he keeps at Derek’s house, trying to brush his teeth hastily through tears. He needs to tell Derek. He has to.

Wrapping a towel round his waist, he walks to his soon-to-be ex-fiancé’s closet. He takes out his own clothes, tugs them on and hurries downstairs.

Downstairs, he smells bacon and syrup and waffles and everything good partners deserve. Partners that don’t cheat. He hears Derek before he sees him, humming some sort of old 60’s tune. Domestically happy.

Stiles chokes on the fact that he’s about to ruin that.

Stiles sees Derek at the stove, frying some bacon in only sweatpants, his broad back muscles on full display. Derek probably smells Stiles and turns away from the stove, his face lighting up.

“Hi.” he says, a soft grin on his face, his stupidly gorgeous crooked teeth on display.

“Hi. Good morning. I—“ Stiles starts.

“I made you waffles. And bacon. “ he looks sheepish. “And coffee with almond milk creamer, just how you like it. Because, uh.”

Because they just got engaged, and Derek wants to make it special. Stiles can see the way the little table is set. Two plates piled high with waffles and whipped cream, two mugs of coffee and a little bottle of Adderall for Stiles. He wants to sob.

Stiles lets out a watery breath. “Thank you, Derek, but I don’t—“

His grin drops and he suddenly looks so _sad_. “Did you. Did you maybe want, like, pancakes or something? I—“

“Derek, I. I - I cheated on you. Last night.” That shuts Derek up. Stiles can’t get rid of the lump in his throat.

Derek looks at him slowly. There’s no heartbreak on his face. “No, Stiles, you didn’t.”

“I did! I. I. I can’t believe I.” he starts crying. He can’t even look at Derek. He can’t believe he’s standing there, crying about cheating on his partner barefoot, in his partner’s kitchen, wearing his partner’s cologne. Derek turns the stove off and grabs Stiles’ hands.

“You didn’t cheat on me. I was with you the whole day.” Derek says.

“I did. I made out with this guy on his couch and I was drunk and. And I’m so fucking sorry, Derek. I can’t believe I...”

Derek raises an eyebrow. “Last night? The night we got engaged and celebrated? In my living room?”

“Yes! Why aren’t you taking this seriously?!”

Stiles blinks. Looks at the living area. Sees the almost empty bottle of Schnapps lying on the loveseat. Smells the cologne and leather and paradise on Derek.

It then all makes sense.

“Oh my God.” Stiles declares. “I cheated on you with you.”

Derek grins. He holds him, a hand on his hip and the other on the small of his back. “I’d be able to smell it if you actually did cheat on me with someone else.”

Stiles’ eyes go wide. “But... but the hickies, Derek!”

Derek’s face is now dangerously close to his neck. He lifts Stiles’ chin up with his finger and tilts Stiles’ head gently. He seems to be admiring his work. He breathes through his nose deeply. “Mm. Yeah. _Definitely_ me who gave you those hickies.”

Stiles feels himself getting a little aroused. “Are you sure?”

Derek licks a stripe up his fiancé’s neck. “Yep. I kissed you once, then you started kissing the hell out of me. Then you laid me on the couch and started humping me, then you came and fell asleep. I dragged you to my room, you threw up in my bathroom, then climbed in bed. I slept on the couch.”

“Jesus.” Stiles says, mortified. “Oh _God_. I’m so sorry. Get off me, I probably smell like throw up. Oh my God - that’s the worst way to celebrate getting engaged! I’m so sorry, Derek. I. I’m just gonna...”

Stiles turns to leave when he hears his fiancé let out huffs of laughter.

“Stiles, come back. Look at me.” Derek’s face turns serious. “It’s seriously okay. Just. Don’t drink so much. You don’t have a very high tolerance.”

Stiles wants to punch him. “Derek, I humped you, then made you sleep on the couch! How is that okay?!”

“It’s okay because you’re my fiancé.” Derek puts a kiss to his temple. “And we’re getting married.” Another kiss. “And I knew what I was signing up for when I proposed. Do you really think that was the most embarrassing thing you’ve done around me?”

Stiles ponders. Feels the closeness of Derek’s face, looks up at thick eyelashes. “Uh, yes?”

Derek raises an eyebrow. “So you don’t remember the boxer-briefs? Or that one time with the bees? Or the Animal Cracker incident? Or when you said—“

“Okay, okay! I get it!”

“And by the way, you don’t smell like throw up. You smell... a little embarrassed.” Derek smirks. “But mostly like peach Schnapps and come and me.”

Stiles feels his ears turn pink. God, Derek is going to tease him about this for the rest of his life. “Okay, big guy. Now that that’s over, I’m hungry. Let’s eat.”

Derek smiles, sunny and perfect. He kisses Stiles stupid and scratches his beard all over his cheek. Derek’s tongue is no longer soft and pliant. It’s forceful, strong and _fuck_ , Stiles wants to be held down and taken. Derek thumbs at his engagement ring and his smile feels even sunnier.

Derek pulls away, nostrils flaring, obviously smelling Stiles’ horniness. “After breakfast,” is all he says.

Stiles huffs. He hopes the waffles are good to compensate.

(They’re actually pretty amazing.

Later, when Stiles goes to tweet about how good they are, he’s horrified by his feed.)


End file.
